


Assassin's Luck

by SageMasterofSass



Series: You call it Luck, but I call it Fate [3]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: In all honesty this is probably gonna be pretty different from the original story, M/M, Rewrite/Reboot, assassin!Killua, deserted island!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 22:30:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7140248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SageMasterofSass/pseuds/SageMasterofSass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>REWRITE </p><p>The unintended consequences of hiring an assassin to take out your one and only son; A Love Story</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assassin's Luck

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! It's been three years or so since I finished the first version of this story, and for a while now I've been wanting to go back and redo it since my writing has vastly improved over that time. I was finally kicked into motion when one of my best friends literally paid me ten bucks to get writing, so here we are. Everyone thank Aymi. 
> 
> This reboot is gonna be a little different from the first one, though I do have plans to use some of the original writing here. The plot is hopefully gonna make more sense this time around, and I'm also envisioning a sex scene to spice things up. I'll add tags as they come.

In all honesty, the intricacies of internet stalking bored Killua half to death.

Like, it wasn’t like he didn’t have the intelligence or even the equipment for it. He had everything from knowledge to private servers at the tip of his fingers. He just found the endless hours of staring at a screen to be torture, and he’d endured _actual_ torture too many times to count, okay?

But, until he could fully inherit the title of head of the Zoldyck family from his father, he couldn’t force Milluki to do his bidding for him. Which meant Killua had to research all his assignments himself, unless he had particularly good blackmail/incentive material on his older brother.

Normally, this was kind of a non-issue. The people he was hired to kill were typically public figures, the type he could find info about with just a quick search. A little more effort could be required to figure out exactly where they were, what their schedule was, the kind of security they had, but nothing too difficult.

And then sometimes Killua would get a target who had gone underground. Who was either unknown to the general public, or who was known but had virtually dropped off the face of the earth, and he had to spend a lot of time trying to track them down. Physically, on occasion.

Then there was this asshole.

Gon Freecs, twenty years old, a certified hunter, son of Ging Freecs.

That was it, that was all that Killua had on him. He had been at it for hours, scouring through the internet in some kind of twisted wild good chase, trying to find absolutely _anything_ about this character, and so far had turned up zip, nada. In fact, there was so little information it was downright suspicious. Killua wouldn’t be surprised to find out that somebody had gone in before him and erased every iota of information, however small. There wasn’t even anything on Ging, or anyone else with the last name Freecs for that matter.

But nobody existed without having some kind of internet presence, _somewhere._ Be it an old social media account, a digital birth certificate, an arrest record. Fucking _something._

What little Killua did have had been given to him by his client, the man who had hired him to assassinate Gon in the first place, and he couldn’t even verify it online. Because there. Was. Fucking. Nothing.

Killua resisted the urge to slam his forehead against his desk, repeatedly, and came to the decision that he’d just have to do this the old fashioned way.  Good ol’ leg work and actual stalking. God he was going to enjoy killing this guy, just for putting him through this.

Thanks to an offhand comment the client, Ging himself, had made during their meeting, Killua knew Gon was currently in York New. It was a big city, but there couldn’t be that many experienced nen users, even in such a metropolitan area. He’d just scout around a little, try to find someone who looked like they could be Ging’s estranged son, then get them alone and bam. That easy. Or at least he hoped.

He really hated these assignments where the details were up in the air. Not that he wasn’t great at improvising or anything, it was just annoying not being able to plan for everything and knowing that inevitably something unexpected was going to jump out at him, simply by definition of not having enough intel.

Still, he’d never started a mission with so little knowledge before. Even in father and Illumi’s testing situations he at least had a physical descriptor of his target. Here he only knew what the guy’s father looked like, and it was completely up to fate and biology if they’d be similar at all.

With a sigh, Killua pushed away from his desk and stood. He stretched his arms over his head and bent backwards until something in his back popped satisfyingly. That finished, he shut his laptop down with a few clicks, and went to go pack a minimalistic bag for his trip.

Nothing for it, he’d just have to make his plans loosely and with room for maneuvering. As much as it pained him.

The mansion was silent as he moved through it, laptop tucked under one arm and feet silent against the marble tiles. There was a time when he would have skateboarded most places, especially considering just how large the mansion was, but mother had always disapproved of that and eventually it became easier to give in to some of her whims rather than fight her on everything. After she’d dragged him home kicking and screaming from an escape attempt at twelve, he’d learned to placate where he could, simply to make his own life easier.

His bedroom was several stories up and had three large windows with good views of the surrounding forest. They let in a lot of natural light, which he appreciated after spending a good deal of his childhood locked up in the windowless basement. They could be a bit of an annoyance though, especially on the mornings when he wanted to sleep in, and at the moment he had all of his curtains drawn to keep the lighting dim.

He threw his laptop on the unmade bed and dug around in his closet until he found the bag he always took with him on missions, old and blue and only one strap. He liked to think it was lucky.

If he booked an airship right after packing, he could probably be in Pakodea in a day or two, and then York New a few days after that. Sooner if he could find a ship that was planning on going straight to the city. It would leave a lot of time on his hands, being all cooped up on the ship, but living where he did that was always a problem whenever he went out on an assignment.

He threw a few changes of clothes in his bag, his satellite phone on top of that, and a few choice weapons that may or may not be useful. Gon was supposed to be a hunter after all, and Killua had no idea what his skill level was….which still pissed him off. He had _no fucking clue_ who this guy was, what he could do, who his connections were, nothing.

And for that matter, what kind of father hired an assassin to take out his son in the first place?

Okay well, it wasn’t completely unusual, families having fault lines and all. But typically when a sibling wanted to inherit, or a parent wanted their problem child to disappear, they were of the rich and famous variety and couldn’t easily commit the murder themselves. And, you know, had monetary and political motivations.

Ging wasn’t rich or famous. In fact, upon meeting him, Killua’s first impression had been of a relatively clean, but still unshaven hobo. But he was a hunter too, Killua had heard his name circulated a few times on the grapevine, but it was usually just myths about his accomplishments or some such. Still, not the type you’d think would want to murder their one and only child. (Wait…was Gon even Ging’s one and only? Who fucking knew he could have a whole litter of other kids Killua didn’t know about and he really, really hated that.)  

There had to be something else going on here. Killua couldn’t put his finger on anything right then, mainly because he was seriously lacking any information in the slightest, but he could tell when a situation was fishy. And this reeked.

He finished packing his bag and opened his laptop up again to purchase an airship ticket. On most days he took his laptop elsewhere, because the upper levels of the mansion didn’t get as good wifi as in other places, but the strength in his room was decent. Just not good enough for the kind of research he’d been doing earlier.

Unfortunately the ship that left the soonest had several layovers that Killua wasn’t looking forward to, and he’d be forced to board a different ship entirely once in Padokea. There was another one that left a few days later and had less layovers, but in the end he’d still get to York New at pretty much the same time so it wasn’t worth the extra expense of the ticket.

Still, Killua winced a little as he bought the necessary accommodations. The tickets were just expensive enough to seriously cut into his emergency snack fund without leaving him completely broke. He’d have to lay off the Choco-robos for a bit.

But if he could successfully complete this assignment? Well, according to Ging two million Jenny would soon be transferred into one of his many bank accounts. The other eight million would arrive once the job was finished.

Seriously. Ten million fucking Jenny. Killua hadn’t been paid that well in years.

He shook his head and sent the digital tickets to his email so he could pull them up on his phone. His good one, with wifi access and everything, unlike the bulky satellite phone that was purely for emergency situations when he got stuck somewhere, or was being tailed. Not that that had happened in like, years, but Illumi had always told him to cautious above all else. Or was it vicious? Either way.

The first airship didn’t leave for a few hours, but it took a while to get off the Zoldyck mountain and down to the station. So Killua shouldered his bag and set out, taking the stairs down three at a time. Neither his father nor his mother knew he was leaving, but he was fairly independent these days so he wasn’t going to bother trying to inform them. Besides, he didn’t even know if they were in. For all he was aware they could be off on assignments of their own.

Instead he stopped by the servants quarters briefly, and told Gotoh where he was planning on going and why. As always, Gotoh didn’t bother trying to wish him luck or something else ridiculous, but he did briefly place a large palm over Killua’s shoulder, a kind of protective gesture that made him feel eight years younger than his twenty. He shook it off, flashed Gotoh a small smirk, and left before any of the other servants came to try and treat him like a child.

Airships wait for no man after all, and besides, Zoldycks are never really children.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment or tell me what you think on [tumblr](http://scribespirare.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Oh and also? Thinking about taking the original fic down. Thoughts?


End file.
